


you'd keep my head from going under

by cheekaspbrak



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Coming of Age, First Kiss, Growing Up, Insecure Richie Tozier, M/M, Richie Tozier Has ADHD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 08:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20690234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheekaspbrak/pseuds/cheekaspbrak
Summary: Richie Tozier's biggest fear is growing up.





	you'd keep my head from going under

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically unfinished (I wanted to add an extra part to the beginning), but I think it reads well as is. I hadn't worked on it for months and figured I should just post it now because I'm proud of what I did, so here it is.

**15**

Richie likes nights like these more than anything, nights where they’re all packed into the living room of one of their houses, in sleeping bags, watching movies until their eyes were drooping and forcing them to go to sleep. He likes when everyone is with him, crammed close together, warm and happy and _ there _ . As Richie had grown older he started to realize that _ maybe _he had a problem with being alone, but it was just a smidge of an abandonment issue. Who could blame him, anyway? 

“Love you, goodnight. ” Richie says, turning over in his sleeping bag. He hears a sleepy hum from Eddie, some shuffling from Bev in the corner of the room. Eddie doesn’t say it back, he never does. He doesn’t like to be affectionate, feels uncomfortable saying mushy things. Richie’s okay with that. He finds it amazing that Eddie has stuck by his side this long, he doesn’t need anything else from him. He can feel Eddie still looking at him, burning into the back of his head. He hasn’t heard him turn over in his sleeping bag yet. He suddenly feels Eddie’s fingers tapping along his shoulder like he’s playing the piano. 

“Do you need something?” He whispers, bringing his hand up to capture the playful fingers. 

“No, nothing,” he hears him respond. He wonders what his face looks like right now, but his stomach is exploding into butterflies at the thought of turning to look at him. He decides it’s better to stay where he is, “Just love you too.”

Richie hopes he can’t feel the air leave his body. He’s pretty sure this is the longest he’s stayed this stationary, hand still holding onto Eddie’s fingers. He’s trying to force himself to breathe, _ it’s not a big deal _ , his brain says. Everyone in their friend group exchanges _ love you’s _but no, not Eddie. Richie is trying to rationalize it, to tell himself not to get his hopes up. 

“_ Ow.” _Eddie whisper shouts, yanking his hand away from Richie’s, “Why the fuck are you squeezing my hand so tight?”

“Sorry m’lady.” He responds in his horrible British accent, facing the unknown and turning to see Eddie again. Eddie gives him an annoyed look, returning the injured hand to its position under his pillow. Richie fumbles around with his own hand, trying to find his cheek in the blurry pitch-black room. He finds his ear first, then his eye, then runs his hand down and gives a gentle pinch to his cheek. His hand is quickly smacked away, but he just grins in response. “Cute, cute, cute.”

He can’t see very well, but he’s pretty sure Eddie is smiling while rolling his eyes. 

“Goodnight, Richie.” Eddie turns away this time, leaving him to stare at his back with a smile so big his cheeks hurt. 

“Love you most.” He says as quietly as he possibly can, settling down against his pillow for the night. 

**16**

Richie hates growing up for many reasons. He finds that as he gets older, adults expect him to behave less and less like...Richie. His parents, teachers, and even sometimes his friends get tired of his jokes, his impulsive behavior, his constant talking. When he turns sixteen, he starts to feel like he’s being left behind more and more. He feels like he’s in the rearview mirror to the rest of the world, growing smaller and smaller every day. They don’t have sleepovers anymore, not the way they used to. When they do get together, it’s different. Bill and Bev sneak off to some room in the house to make out and do..._ other things _ . Ben and Stan usually talk about school, or even worse, _ do homework _. Mike doesn’t even come around anymore, and Richie really misses him. He misses Mike checking in on him if he was still awake when everyone else had fallen asleep. Mike understood, he’d go get Richie a glass of water and remind him that he was okay, that the stupid clown is dead, and even if it isn’t, they’ll kill it when they’re grown-ups. 

_ “A problem for future us.” _Richie would say, a wry smile on his face, sipping from the cup. Mike would hum and nod and lean against his side, grounding him. They’d sit side by side on the floor, resting against the front of the couch behind them. When he felt like he could breathe again, he’d fall asleep sitting up, head lolling to the side and mouth hanging open.

He wonders if maybe he should check in on Mike sometimes, too.

“Do you think Mike is okay?” Richie pipes up, cutting Eddie off mid-sentence. They’re sitting in Eddie’s bed against the headboard. Eddie looks annoyed, probably because he had been talking and Richie should’ve been listening, but he answers his question anyway.

“Of course he’s okay. You could just ask him. He sits with us every day at lunch.” He’s rolling his eyes and Richie can feel that the edge of his right foot is resting against the edge of his left foot. He puts his foot on top of Eddie’s and pushes down absentmindedly, causing Eddie to move his foot away. It doesn’t take long before his toes are searching for his foot again, never moving his eyes from Eddie’s.

“Yeah, he’s _ there, _ but he’s never really _ around _.” He flails his arms out to emphasize his point, but Eddie doesn’t seem to get it. Richie is tired of talking about it already. His hand lands close to Eddie’s, so he wraps his fingers around the small hand because it’s just the most convenient thing to do. 

“You’re sweaty, gross,” Eddie says, immediately removing his hand and wiping it on his shorts. They’re nice shorts, Richie notes. He’d never wear them, no, but they look good on Eddie. They’re a nice navy blue with white stripes down the sides. Eddie is still talking, but he can’t bring himself to focus on his voice. He uses a fingernail to pick at the white stripe and Eddie yelps.

“_ Jesus! _What’s wrong with you? Why are you so touchy-feely?” He’s pushing Richie’s hand away, and suddenly he feels a little rejected. Eddie never liked Richie’s affection, but lately he seems to dislike it more. Everything is changing and it’s not fair. 

“Your mom never complains about that in-” Eddie’s hand is smacking him on the cheek before he even gets a chance to finish. He pouts at Eddie and crosses his arms.

“I don’t even get a ‘Beep Beep, Richie’ anymore? You’re just going straight to hitting me now?” Eddie rolls his eyes again but presses a little closer to his side. “I’ll forgive you if you give it a kiss.”

Richie leans his cheek too close to his face, throwing his arms around Eddie to keep him from moving away. He struggles in his arms, laughing, nose bumping against his face. 

“C’mon, just _ one _ kiss, Eds!”

“Stop! Don’t call me that! I swear to god, Richie, I won’t hesitate to hit you again!” Richie relents, releasing him. He sighs happily when Eddie returns to his side, leaning his head on his shoulder. Maybe not _ everything _was changing. His Eddie Spaghetti would never change, he was stupid to think that he would. Richie starts restlessly rubbing his toes against the bed, picking at the sheets. He feels Eddie tap his foot with his own, gently telling him to stop. He directs his attention to Eddie’s feet again, rubbing the top of his foot against the arch of Eddie’s. 

“Have you ever thought you might have ADHD?” He asks, out of the blue. He says it quietly though, like he’s not sure if he’s crossing a boundary.

“Eds, I knew you were weird about germs, but now you’re trying to play doctor with me?” He nudges Eddie with his shoulder and regrets it when Eddie removes his head from its previous position. 

“Shut up, you idiot, it isn’t a disease.” He’s facing Richie now, knees tucked against his chest, chin resting on them. 

“I’ve thought about it.” He answers, suddenly feeling like he’s being pried open. He’s faintly aware that he’s pulling his own knees up under his chin, too. 

“Maybe you should have your parents take you to the doctor for it,” Eddie suggests and reaches out towards Richie’s hand, stopping a few inches away to play with the hem on the sheets instead. 

“I don’t think they’d do that.” He says, quiet. The implied _ “I don’t think they’d care” _goes unsaid. He wishes they could go back to giggling and yelling like they were a few moments ago. He doesn’t like how serious this is. He can’t take his eyes off of Eddie’s hands playing with the sheets. “Is it that noticeable?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Eddie exhales a laugh through his nose and Richie’s eyes come up to meet his. He must be shit at masking his emotions because Eddie frowns a little and continues talking. “It’s just little things, you fidget a lot. Oh, and you never stop talking.” 

Richie knows it’s not meant to be an insult by the way he giggles, and he can feel the atmosphere in the room easing up a bit. He ducks his head and mumbles, “Sorry.”

Eddie latches onto his hand then, still smiling, “You’re annoying but you’re not like, _annoying, _you know?”

And yeah, Richie knows. Later, when he gets insecure again, he won’t. But right now, with the way Eddie is smiling at him, he knows. He makes a funny noise when Eddie kisses his cheek and it’s over before he even knows what’s happening. 

“For earlier.” Is all he says, and Richie wants to believe he sees a blush on his cheeks, but his mind is just playing tricks on him.

**16.5**

Mike _ is _ doing okay, Richie learns when he shows up at his farm with no warning. But, he’s not doing much better than okay. He’s surrounding himself with things to do, so he doesn’t have to think for too long. He’s acting a lot like Richie himself, which makes him chuckle. Richie was supposed to run away from his emotions, not Mike. 

“Remind me why you came here again?” Mike asks him, but he’s not annoyed. He seems confused, mostly, heaving a bag of something over his shoulder and walking out towards the field. Richie follows close behind, feeling a little guilty that he’s not helping. He’d offered but Mike refused, saying it would be rude to let him do that. 

“What? I can’t miss my good ol’ pal?” He says, looking towards the setting sun. Mike looks over at him skeptically but the smile on Richie’s face is genuine. Mike smiles back and Richie is glad he came. He seems happy to see him, maybe he wasn’t pulling away after all. Maybe everything wasn’t changing. “Do you want to have a movie night tonight? Just you and me? Everyone else is always busy now.”

Mike looks like he’s hesitating, but his eyes meet Richie’s again and he frowns. He looks like he feels sad for him, and Richie doesn’t like that _ at all _. No, no, no, he was not going to receive pity from Mike Hanlon of all people. He respected Mike too much for that. He halts in his tracks and shrugs, trying and failing to come up with something funny to say. “Let me down easy, my love,” is what he settles on. 

Mike shakes his head, but a fond smile is on his face. He unexpectedly reaches out and pulls Richie to his side, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. They’re about the same height now, Richie notices with mild annoyance.

“Sure, man.” He says before swiftly dumping the heavy bag onto Richie’s shoulder, laughing when he teeters over and falls into the dirt. 

“How could you!” Richie is shouting at him, squirming his way out from under the bag. He manages to push it off and uses Mike’s hand to pull himself up. “I’ll meet you at my house around 6? My parents are at this convention...thingy...out of town.”

“See you then.” Mike nods and brushes some dust off of Richie’s flannel. 

“And just to be clear,” Richie adds as he turns on his heel towards his bike, “This is _ definitely _ a date.”

Mike just laughs at his weird friend who starts loudly singing _ Africa _by Toto and dancing back to his car.

Later that night, after Richie had talked for a long while (20 minutes, Mike counted) about why The Princess Bride was better than any Star Wars movie ever created, they finally settle in to watch the saga of Buttercup, Westley, and Inigo Montoya. Of course, because Richie is Richie, he can’t contain himself from incessantly chattering during the movie. If Mike minds, he doesn’t show it, so Richie continues buzzing in the background of the movie. He’s talking about each of his favorite parts and how much Mike is going to _ love _this one part that’s about 20 minutes in but he can’t tell him because that would spoil it for him and he’s not the kind of person who spoils a movie. He realizes he needs to hang out with Mike more often, he uses “Beep Beep” the least out of the whole group. But he also kind of misses it. He misses being able to annoy Eddie and Stan, because Mike is like a brick wall when it comes to annoyance. He seems completely unperturbed by 95% of Richie’s jokes and chatter. He misses being playfully swatted away by Eddie when he says a joke about his mom or squeezes him tight between his arms. He misses his sharp humor, his giggles. 

That’s when Westley says it:

“Hear this, I will always come for you.”

“But how can you be sure?” Buttercup asks tentatively. 

Westley, a true romantic, says one of the best lines in the whole movie, “This is true love. You think this happens every day?”

Richie stops the bouncing he had been doing on the edge of his seat. He shifts back, tucking into the corner of the couch, knees pulling up to his chest. 

“Mike?” He says after a few moments have passed. 

“Yeah, Rich?” He’s half looking at the movie still, probably not sure what’s going on with Richie’s distracting babbling.

“I think I’ve been in love with Eddie for three years.” Mike starts then, turning fully to Richie who is making himself smaller. He instinctively wraps his arms around his legs like he’s protecting himself. He’s not sure what to do, especially now that all the air in his lungs has conveniently gone missing. Mike is looking him over, clearly bouncing different thoughts around in his head. “Mike?”

Maybe it’s how small his voice comes out, or maybe it’s the loud music that starts to flood out from the TV, but Mike seems to snap out of his thoughts.

“We all knew that. I mean, we all kind of knew that there was something different between you two. But, I didn’t know it was _ that _different.” Mike’s tone is calm, but tears start to drip from Richie’s eyes anyway. He starts frantically wiping them away because he certainly wasn’t intending to cry in front of Mike at their super manly movie night. His eyes grow wide when he sees the state Richie is in. He slowly puts a hand on his knee. “No, it’s not- fuck, it’s not a bad thing. It’s just different. Unexpected. If it makes you feel better I….I think he feels the same way.” Richie rolls his eyes and lets out a pitiful laugh. 

“Edward Kaspbrak has much higher standards than that, Michael.” He’s definitely joking, but he’s also...not. Mike doesn’t notice that, though, he just chuckles and returns to watching the movie. Which makes Richie feel good, that he could tell Mike something like this without it being a big deal. But he can feel himself diving into his thoughts as the movie plays on, thoughts about Eddie and how he deserved the world. Richie is just a small part of the world, but he so desperately wants to be _ enough _ for Eddie. He’s not, though. He’s loud and a little mean sometimes and very, _ very _ annoying. Eddie is...well, he _ is _ kind of a dick sometimes too, but he is also clean and smart and funny and sweet. He deserves someone who is all of those things, too. Richie ticks none of the boxes of what he deserves.

Some corner of his mind notices that he’s been shaking his leg this whole time. He really wishes that Eddie was here now to nudge him and push him out of his thoughts like he always does. How did he get so lucky to have Eddie Kaspbrak in his life?

**17**

Richie’s life has been spiraling for quite some time now. He usually feels like he isn’t in control of his mind, but now it seems like that feeling has spread to his entire life. Adults won’t stop asking him where he’s going to college, what he’s doing with his life, why he’s not dating anyone. Richie Tozier is never scared, but Richie Tozier is so...scared. 

He feels like he’s on the edge of a cliff and everyone won’t stop telling him to jump. He’s looking around, asking why nobody else seems to understand how _ dangerous _ it would be to jump. They’re yelling, they can’t understand why he won’t just jump. _ Because that would kill me _, he wants to tell them. They don’t understand though, because they’re all already dead. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Eddie presses against him with a smile on his face. They’re at the quarry, legs dangling over the cliff they all love jumping off of. Eddie didn’t feel like getting into the water with everyone else today, so he and Richie decided to lay on a blanket together.

“Yeah,” he hums, leaning his head to rest on Eddie’s, “your mom’s cat.”

Eddie groans and pushes him away but Richie bounces back fast. He scoots close to him again, sticking his tongue out.

“Will you ever grow up, Tozier?” He’s smiling up at him, but something in Richie’s chest aches a little. He knows it’s stupid and pushes it away. “What’s wrong?”

Eddie is looking down at everyone screaming in the water like he hadn’t said a word. Richie feels his heart swell when he realizes that he’s intentionally trying to not make this a big deal, trying to make him feel comfortable. The world blessed him with Eddie Kaspbrak, it really did. 

“Eds, I’m-” He feels Eddie shooting him daggers for the name, but he carries on, “I feel like I’m not cut out for the adult world.”

“You’re not.” Eddie snorts. “I wouldn’t say your feelings are misplaced, you still make dirty jokes about my mom like a middle schooler.” Richie huffs and shifts his weight between his hands.

“I just- Everyone else seems so prepared to become an adult and go to college and I...I’m scared.” Eddie leans back against him again.

“You think the rest of us aren’t scared, dipshit?” Richie presses his cheek on top of his head and sighs contentedly. 

“I know you guys are scared but, you all fit into the adult world a little better. You’re so smart, Eds, and so responsible. I feel like everything I am, everything that makes up Richie Tozier, is exactly the kind of thing that adulthood quashes out of you. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe I should grow up, stop being annoying.”

“You’re annoying, not _ annoying. _ ” Eddie reminds him gently and looks him in the eyes for the first time since they started talking. Richie will probably never stop being blown away by how pretty his eyes are. Do you stop loving people this much when you become an adult, too? “I don’t think adulthood could ever make you stop being _ Richie Tozier _. I mean, I’ve been trying for years to get you to stop calling me Eds and it still hasn’t worked.”

That gets Richie to laugh and lighten up a little. He looks up at the sky to blink away the tears that started to gather on his bottom lid. He feels Eddie tugging on one of his curls, pulling him back. He turns his head into the touch and Eddie gives in, uses his fingertips to rub at his scalp for a few moments. He closes his eyes with a smile.

“I’m scared of losing everyone.” He admits quietly, almost drowned out by the laughs from down below. “I’m scared of losing you.”

He doesn’t move or open his eyes, and panics when he can’t even hear Eddie breathing. He hopes he doesn’t look as scared as he feels, but he knows his eyebrows are furrowing, mouth tugging down into a frown.

“You’d never lose me, Rich. You actually think that, with all your incessant talking and crude jokes, I would stick around you this long just to leave you because you turned eighteen?” He slides his hand down the back of Richie’s neck and pauses like he doesn’t know what to do now. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of obsessed with you.”

Richie opens his eyes again and furiously blushes. In the back of his head, he knows what this is. He knows what the blush on Eddie’s face means. He knows that “obsessed with you” means “in love with you”. But...what if it doesn’t?

“I’m kind of obsessed with you too.” He _ really _likes the flustered look that Eddie gives him after that. He looks a little like he might pass out. It makes Richie want to say it again. He wants to tell him how cute he looks. “Awww, Eds! All that blushing just for me?”

“You’re making fun of me? Did you see how red your face was a few seconds ago?” Richie blushes again, this time giggling a little too. “See? Clearly I have to say things like that more often, if that’s the reaction I’m gonna get.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” He admits, really enjoying this flirty banter. Maybe things won’t change when he turns eighteen. Eddie looks at him like he’s challenged him, and his face draws closer. Richie _ knows _their noses are almost touching, but he’s still not sure if he’s imagining the look Eddie is giving him.

“I’m obsessed with you.” Eddie says again, voice almost a whisper. Richie’s eyes flutter closed and open again. He really doesn’t believe this is happening right now.

“That’s the best you can come up with?” With a spark, their noses touch. The feeling races through Richie’s body, how are they this close?

“You’re also really fucking cute when you blush.” Richie can’t believe _ anyone _ is saying these things about him, let alone Eddie. He swallows roughly, he can feel Eddie’s breath against his lips. He can smell him, see his eyes flickering down every few moments. His stomach is in knots. “And good god, those _ lips _-”

That’s all it takes before Richie is kissing him sloppily, fixing his posture halfway through and pulling Eddie into his lap to get a better angle. Eddie puts his legs on either side of him, kissing back with more love and passion than Richie could’ve ever imagined. His back starts to hurt because his hands that were once propping him up can’t find a place to rest on Eddie, shifting from his cheeks to his shoulders to his waist and back again. The noise he makes when Eddie pulls back is a little embarrassing, but Eddie just smiles.

“I _ really _ need to say things like that more often, it’s nice watching you get all flustered for a change.” Eddie says quietly, and Richie doesn’t say another word before he’s trying to plant a new kiss on Eddie’s lips. He’s amazed that he lets him without a complaint. “You’re an even better kisser than I imagined you would be.”

Richie’s mind is going fuzzy from all the compliments he’s giving him, but he manages a little joke, “That’s because I’ve had a lot of practice on your mom.”

Eddie groans but he tackles Richie with more kisses, pushing him entirely onto the ground. They spend hours up there, with Eddie complimenting everything he can think of (“I like your hands, and your jawline, and your nose, and your stupid glasses, and your neck, and your shoulders, your laugh, how smart you are, how spontaneous you are, how you pick me up and spin me around like a little kid...”). He even says a few _very_ inappropriate things that have Richie even more flustered than he was before. 

Richie decides that maybe he likes change, just a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, sorry this is trash but I really liked the idea of it and reworking it over and over is only going to make it worse. What'd you think?


End file.
